


In her Care

by Donna_Immaculata



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-22
Updated: 2011-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-27 20:17:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/299648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Donna_Immaculata/pseuds/Donna_Immaculata
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night of Remus' first transformation as a teacher, Poppy Pomfrey remembers his last transformation as a student.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In her Care

I. a

It is a truth universally little acknowledged that within every large organisation, it is not the ones on the top of the hierarchical structure who have the best overview about the general situation. It is the ones who operate in the background, who stay invisible most of the time and only make their appearance when their services are required.

Poppy Pomfrey, Matron at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, was therefore not surprised about Remus Lupin's appointment as Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher the year Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban. She was, after all, probably the only person in school who knew Remus best, regarding the fact that she was the only one who had witnessed the boy every time just before and right after his transformations, when his frame of mind was most frail and when he let his usual composure slip. She was the one to offer him comfort during his first months at Hogwarts, when Remus had been simply terrified by the idea of having to change in unfamiliar surroundings, being fully at the mercy of strangers whose attitude towards himself he must have expected to be more hostile than not.

Having spent many a night sitting at the window of her office, staring up at the full moon, she had wondered what it must feel like for a sensitive boy like Remus to live with the knowledge that every month, he would turn into a terrifying monster, and that there was nothing to prevent these transformations. She did not really wish to know the answer.

In the course of the years, his transformations seemed to become somehow easier, or less terrifying at least. Or maybe he had simply adapted to and accepted the fate with this quiet dignity that was evident in everything he did. His friends had surely been a great support during this time. Those in school who knew about the boy's condition had been more than happy to witness the intense friendship between himself and the other Gryffindor boys in his year. And although it was James Potter who, due to his extreme popularity among teachers and students alike, had been generally considered to have been the ringleader of their little gang, Madam Pomfrey had always recognised the enormous influence the quiet Remus Lupin had over his friends.

Sirius Black, on the other hand, had always been a troublesome boy. His flaming temper and his tendency to blatantly display every emotion, be it good or bad, had always caused him problems. Unlike James, who had the ability to please where he thought it wise, Sirius could not or would not pretend to feel differently than he did. The only voice of authority he seemed to listen to was Remus Lupin. In his presence, Sirius transformed into another person - he suddenly developed the ability for retrospection and stopped in his steps to think through his next action.

Therefore, it seemed only logical the Headmaster should invite Remus to Hogwarts after Sirius's escape. He valued the boy's ability to make others see reason and hoped against hope that, in case Black would turn up, Remus would be there to prevent the worst.

Poppy sighed and turned away from the window. It was full moon, and Remus was in his office, a harmless wolf under the influence of the Wolfsbane. She left her office and went to the Great Hall for dinner.

She was late. Everyone was already at dinner when she slipped in quietly, taking a seat near the door, and when she sat down and looked around, her gaze fell on Minerva.

Minerva McGonagall was sitting very straight three seats along on the long side of the table, and by the way the Professor's hands were trembling slightly, Poppy recognised that the other woman must have been in a state of great distress. Minerva had always been the classic example of composure. The only person she knew who had their feelings better under control than Professor McGonagall was Remus Lupin, thought Poppy. And understood.

II. a

The memory struck her forcefully. It was Remus's last night at Hogwarts. It was full moon.

While all his school fellows are celebrating the fact that they are leaving school forever and are finally released into real life, Remus Lupin is locked away in the Shrieking Shack, where he is going through a transformation that is apparently worse than any one he has experienced during the recent years. When Poppy comes to retrieve him in the morning, he is spread out shivering on the cold stone floor, covered abundantly in blood and dirt. He is lying motionlessly on his front and she has to turn him around. It has been a long time since she has witnessed him so entirely helpless. During the last years, they have come to the silent agreement that Poppy never unlocked the door and entered the room before Remus signalled her that he was moderately 'decent'. After all, he is no longer a little boy. He has turned into a grown-up man, as Poppy is now in the position to see. Very thin - far too thin for his height - usually his robes successfully hide his well-developed, wiry muscles and the tapering shape of his torso. Poppy has turned him on his side and quickly covers his slim body with the woollen rug she has brought so that only his grey face remains visible, his blood-stained lips a nasty bluish colour, dark shadows under his eyes. The fingers of his left hand protruding from under the rug are trembling violently. They are cold as ice.

Poppy feels a wave of nausea overwhelm her when she sees the blood and pieces of flesh under his nails. She has seen many severe injuries in her life. But seeing this boy - man - so bruised and battered and bloody makes her heart break. Uncertain where to start healing his numerous injuries, she stares down at his face for a moment, clutching his hand tightly in hers.

"What am I to do with you, child?" she whispers in a thick voice. Forcing herself to regain composure, she pulls out her wand and starts muttering healing spells that can be performed on the spot. His right shoulder is dislocated. No bones seem to be broken, however. She does not risk healing the deep bite wounds before she has cleaned them properly. While an infection will not threaten a werewolf's life, the healing process of a poorly treated wound would certainly cause Remus a lot of pain. She curses herself for not having brought the necessary magical ointments, but she has not expected the boy to be in such a horrible state. After all, he has not bitten and scratched himself so severely for a long time now.

A soft noise makes her look up. The door is pushed open, and Minerva McGonagall enters the room, looking pale and tense. She does not even look at Madam Pomfrey, her gaze is directed at the boy on the floor.

"How is he, Poppy?" she asks in a low voice. Poppy shrugs helplessly. Minerva's sudden appearance comes as a surprise: no teacher has accompanied her on her missions to the Shrieking Shack, not after Remus' first year, anyway, after Professor Dumbledore had established that she can deal with it well enough by herself, and that Remus certainly does not wish many people to be present around his transformations.

"Badly," she answers curtly. "I haven't seen him in such a miserable state for many years. He has bitten himself." As to emphasise her words, she lifts up the rug and shows Minerva the nasty wound on Remus' right arm.

She hears a sharp intake of breath and Minerva's voice uttering an "Oh sweet Merlin", weak and trembling. Poppy turns Remus' arm around gently and takes a good look herself. The wound is deep, ugly. The paleness of the bone just visible under a mass of shredded, bloody flesh. A wolf's tooth marks standing out clearly on the edges.

"We've got to take him back to the castle," says Poppy. "I can't do anything before I have cleaned the wounds."

Looking almost as pale as the boy, Minerva kneels down beside the lifeless figure on the ground. Her eyes meet Poppy's.

"Let's go. Quick."

II b

"I was worried," says Minerva later, after they have transported Remus back to the castle. He has not regained consciousness, and according to Poppy, this is a very bad sign. Very bad.

"I felt somehow guilty that the celebrations were taking place without him. He was one of the top students in his year, after all. This, and the fact that Potter and Black and Pettigrew would not come to see him this morning like they usually do after his transformations. They are certainly not in the condition for this today," her voice quivers with indignation. "Finished Hogwarts with outstanding marks, but - no sense at all. Just imagine, Professor Sprout caught them getting drunk at the cheapest mead right behind greenhouse three... Black and Potter have initiated this little celebration, I expect. Peter Pettigrew was there, too, and so were a couple of girls. One day, Pettigrew will get tired of getting in trouble because of his friends' affinity for brainless action. I hope this will not destroy their friendship," she sighs heavily. "Anyway, I had to give them detention. And as Mr. Lupin's Head of House, I felt that I should be there to show him -" she trails off, looking almost ashamed of herself. "To tell him there's no need to worry."

Both women know this is a blatant lie. While life at Hogwarts, under Albus Dumbledore's auspices, even a life with such a heavy burden and forced to secrecy, has been a life of security and comfort for Remus, real life in the real world will be a lifelong fight for survival.

"I've got business to attend to," Poppy says finally in the uncomfortable silence. "I've got to get organised before I can leave for the summer." She gives Minerva a long glance. "Can I leave you with him?" Minerva nods. "Call me when he wakes up, will you?"

Minerva sits very straight in her chair, looking down at the young man with a peculiar expression on her face. It resembles the expression Poppy has often witnessed on young witches and wizards when they come to the hospital wing after accidents caused by magical powers - either their own or those of others - that they had never expected to exist: a mixture of fear and awe and respect. Minerva's face, however, displays something more: deep caring.

Poppy has left the door to her office open, in order to be available in an instant if Minerva needs her. Remus lies motionlessly on the bed. After what seems like hours, Minerva shifts slightly in her chair. She sighs as though waking up from deep sleep, leans forward and over Remus, and pulls up his blanket a bit. She freezes in her motion when Remus gives a soft sigh and rolls his head to the other side. He is facing Minerva now.

The Professor stares intently at his face. Apparently, he is not waking up, and Minerva releases the edge of the blanket she has still been holding in a tight grip and brushes back a strand of light brown hair from his face. Her hand lingers for a moment, pressed gently against his temple: a soft, caressing gesture. Her thumb appears to be stroking the sharp angle of his cheek bone. Poppy catches herself rising from her chair to get a better look. She realises her mouth is open and falls back, a deep blush spreading across her face. She is spying, she scolds herself.

But the sight of the stern, severe Professor McGonagall displaying affection for a student is... disquieting. Somehow, it increases Poppy's feeling of apprehension.

Minerva has pulled back her hand; a fraction too quickly, Poppy thinks. Remus shifts again. He turns his head towards Poppy, and she sees his eyes are open. Her heart gives a strange flutter.

"So, how nice you've decided to join us again, Mr. Lupin," she says crisply as she approaches his bed. Minerva has leaned back in her chair, her face and eyes betraying no emotion. Only the left corner of her mouth is twitching slightly.

"How are you feeling?," asks the Matron, checking the pulse on the side of Remus's neck. "Hmm, rather weak, but that's no surprise. You've been in a right state when we brought you in, young man."

"We?" croaks Remus weakly. He coughs. Minerva makes a sudden movement, but Poppy has already handed him a glass of water. He takes it with a trembling hand and raises his head with apparent effort. Minerva's tension is now visible in her entire posture, she resembles a cat ready to leap.

She relaxes perceptibly when Remus's head falls back on the pillow.

"Professor McGonagall helped me to bring you back." Poppy turns away and rummages in the box on the magical tray that has followed her to Remus's bed. She hears a shuffling noise as though Remus has turned his head to look at Minerva and hears her voice, sounding dry and slightly strained.

"Well, Mr. Lupin, as your Head of House I felt it my duty to check on your condition after your transformation. Seeing as today your friends are not... available."

"They will turn up here sooner or later," mutters Poppy, loudly enough for the other two to hear, to break the ringing silence that has fallen after Professor McGonagall's words. Remus releases the breath he has been apparently holding. "If they really spent last night drinking cheap mead, they can't possibly board the Hogwarts Express without a good dose of a hangover cure."

"But now, as you seem to be recovering," continues Professor McGonagall in the same crispy tone, rising from her chair, "I will go back to work. I will have to see the students off, after all."

"What about me?" asks Remus hoarsely. His throat seems to be in pain, probably sore from too much howling.

Both women exchange a glance.

"What about you, Mr. Lupin?" asks Minerva.

"I will be leaving, too, won't I?" he says in a pleading tone.

"We will see about that," answers Poppy dryly. "I've got to examine you thoroughly before I can release you. You had some very nasty injuries today."

"Sorry," mutters Remus, lowering his gaze and looking genuinely ashamed. Poppy feels her stomach clench. Sorry!

"Now, now, there's no need for you to be sorry," she says, careful not to betray any of the emotions that are shaking her. "You will heal quickly. Half of your wounds have probably already closed."

Her eyes dart to Minerva who looks positively ill.

"I will leave you to it now, Madam Pomfrey," says the Professor. "I'm sure you will have the occasion to say goodbye to your friends later, Mr. Lupin. I will see to it."

Minerva turns around and approaches the door in quick, determined steps. When she has turned the handle, only the slightest hesitation gives evidence that Remus's hoarsely whispered "Thank you" must have reached her ears, but she does not turn around.

Poppy knows she is crying.

I b

This night, the first full moon since Remus' arrival as a teacher, must have brought back all those memories not only to herself but also to Professor McGonagall. The feelings that had shaken her the morning when Remus had left were back: Poppy could see it distinctly from the expression on Minerva's face. The Professor was not eating, nor participating in any conversation around the table. She was waiting. Paralysed with fear of what might await them in Lupin's office tomorrow in case Professor Snape's Wolfsbane Potion had failed.

Poppy was not surprised to see Minerva enter her office later that night. Now that she saw the other woman, she knew she had been expecting her. She waited for the first question patiently.

When the question finally came, it was not what Poppy had expected.

"You saw us, didn't you?" asked Minerva with forced calm, sipping on her tea, avoiding Poppy's eyes. Poppy frowned.

"Mr. Lupin - well, Remus - and me. The morning... when he left Hogwarts. Just before he left."

"You care for him," said Poppy. "You offered him comfort."

"Comfort? I suppose you can call it so. And technically, he was no longer a student."

"Even if he were," Poppy's voice sounded utterly surprised, "there is certainly no harm in adjusting an ill student's duvet, or even touching his hair. I've done so plenty of times."

"Pardon me?" said Minerva incredulously. And added quickly," Oh. You mean... No." she paused, frowned, and snorted with mirthless laughter. "You didn't see us, then." She continued sounding slightly annoyed with herself. "How ridiculous."

Poppy felt a wave of apprehension rising up from the pit of her stomach, making her throat contract. Minerva surely could not mean... Not the strict, severe Minerva!

Professor McGonagall leaned towards Poppy, gazing intently into the other woman's eyes. Poppy found it disturbing how this woman sometimes resembled her feline self, all deadly grace and precise movements.

"I'm only human, too, after all," Minerva answered the unspoken question, settling herself back in her chair and reaching out for her tea cup. "I... have kissed Mr. Lupin. I thought you knew. You were in the room a second later."

Poppy stared at Minerva wide-eyed. The fact that she had just started to fear such a confession had not lessened the shock when it was actually voiced. "How? When?" she stammered. "Why?"

"In the staff-room, just before he left for Hogsmeade," replied Minerva. On that day, Poppy had been reluctant to let Remus go after his difficult transformation, and intended to keep him in the hospital wing overnight. However, Remus had insisted on leaving, and until the Headmaster had settled the matter in his favour, it had gotten late and the other students were already gone. Remus was therefore to leave Hogwarts directly for Hogsmeade through the staff-room fire instead of taking the carriage with his school fellows, and was escorted by his Head of House.

"How? The normal way, I suppose. On the mouth," Minerva looked faintly amused at the shocked expression on Poppy's face. "Nothing fancy," she added, watching Poppy squirm uncomfortably. "And why? I don't know. I have asked myself over and over again: what could have made me kiss a student? A child in my care. A boy who had just experienced... his worst nightmare. But -"

"But he was no longer a child," Poppy had recovered from the shock. Minerva no longer looked even remotely amused; now, there was an expression of self-disgust on her face. "He was a man. We will always consider them as children, even if they have long matured. And Remus has grown up quicker than many of the others."

"That does not make it less shameful," interrupted Minerva sharply. "I took advantage of his frail state! I abused my position to abuse a child. An ill child!"

"Did you consider him a child," asked Poppy quietly, "when you were kissing him?"

"Of course not!" snapped Minerva. "I'm not that twisted! There was nothing childlike about him that morning. His eyes... did you see the expression in his eyes? In terms of age it would have matched Albus'!"

"And he certainly did not have the body of a child," said Poppy waspishly, relishing the shocked expression on Minerva's face in turn, accompanied by the tiny gasp for air. "Don't worry too much, Minerva. He is a grown-up man now, and as far as I can tell, he holds no resentment against you. He has probably long forgotten."

Minerva muttered something incomprehensible in response. They remained sitting in silence, until Minerva broke it again.

"I, well, I thank you, I suppose. It was good to tell somebody, even after so many years. Especially after so many years," she corrected herself as an afterthought. "I have nursed the memory far too long. It... has gained more and more weight over all these years."

After Minerva had left, Poppy remained seated in her chair, reliving the conversation in her head. Minerva had kissed Remus Lupin. She felt a wave of - anger? disgust? - rolling over her. No, not anger nor disgust, she thought, analysing the pressure deep inside her chest, a pressure that seemed to cut off the air and made breathing difficult. Kissing a student! A child!

No. Not a child. What she had said before to comfort Minerva was true. Remus had no longer been a child. He had been a man.

II c

Poppy breathes in deeply and understands. Jealousy.

She watches Remus fastening his robe and doing up his Hogwarts tie. He has already laced his shoes, and will be ready to leave any moment. His face is the usual mask of polite, friendly composure again. He turns around towards Poppy and smiles amiably.

He is still weak. She has checked his pulse, his blood, his breathing, his temperature - everything. She has made sure most of his injuries have healed before she lets him go. His arm is still very sore, but the bleeding has stopped, the arm is bandaged tightly, and he does not even need a sling. A werewolf's recuperating capacities are truly amazing.

Remus is backlit by the morning sun. Poppy knows he likes standing in the sun every morning after his transformations, she always makes sure he gets a bed by the window. His face is still grey, but his lips have lost their bluish hue and are just very pale. And his smile is as heart-rending as ever.

She has not realised he was talking, fully absorbed by looking at his tall, slender figure. How could she have failed to realise how much he had changed, matured? He is handsome, she catches herself thinking, surprised.

Remus frowns and repeats his words. Poppy feels caught. She coughs to hide her embarrassment and smiles back at the man.

"Excuse me, my boy, I was..." What? "...thinking about how much you have grown. You were only a little boy when you came here the first time."

He laughs, a little embarrassed. Uncomfortable. At his age, they do not appreciate it when one talks about their childhood. They want to be considered adults.

"Madam Pomfrey," he says, suddenly very serious. "I wish I could express how grateful I am for... everything, really. I think you can't know how much what you've done means to me." He falls silent, blushes slightly by the sound of his own words and looks away. She feels her eyes welling up with tears.

"My dear boy," she bursts out. "My boy!"

Before she knows what she is doing, she pulls him into a tight embrace. She wants to make it appear harmless, motherly, but he is so much taller, stronger than she is, and when, after a brief moment of hesitation, he puts his arms around her and pulls her towards himself, she knows he is definitely no longer a boy. This is not a boy's embrace. No awkward fidgeting, no hesitation as to where to place his arms and hands. He knows very well how to hold a woman. He has definitely done it before.

His scent is no boy's scent either, and the moment she realises she has inhaled deeply, Poppy lets go abruptly, stumbling back from him. He looks genuinely surprised.

It is this innocence, finds Poppy, that makes him so irresistible. He does not fully understand - yet - the effect his mere presence can have on a woman. Somehow, she finds this touching. She smiles at him.

"You better go, Remus, or you might be late. You don't want to miss the train."

He smiles back, warmly, and leaves without a further word. Does not notice her gaze following him.

"May all gods bless you, my boy," whispers Poppy standing still in the middle of the otherwise deserted hospital wing.

II d

Poppy pushes open the door to the staff-room, hurries inside. She is out of breath: she was running all the way from the hospital wing to catch Remus in time. Clutches his book that lay forgotten under the bedside table in her hand. She knows she could send it by owl, but if she hands it to him in person, she will, one last time, see this heartbreaking smile light up his face.

She is in luck: Remus has not left yet. He stands by the mantelpiece, a somehow bewildered look on his face, looking intently at Professor McGonagall. Minerva seems frozen on the spot, her right hand pressed against her throat. She looks flustered, agitated. Worried about the boy.

"You left your book in the hospital wing, Mr. Lupin," says Poppy into the silence. She sees both give a start as though awaking from a trance. Minerva lets her hand drop, and Remus turns around towards Poppy.

Smiles.

She hands him his book, he thanks, pockets it and steps in front of the fire. He stops once more to shake Minerva's hand.

"Goodbye, Professor. Thank you for everything," he says earnestly. Their fingers brush against each other when he withdraws his hand. Minerva remains perfectly still, looking up at his face wide-eyed. She does not say anything, but her lips move silently as though she was casting for words. Remus never takes his serious gaze from her face when he retreats slowly backwards, walking towards the fire. He turns around.

In the next moment, he is gone.


End file.
